


Phases of the Moon

by GhostLady



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:10:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostLady/pseuds/GhostLady
Summary: For some reason unbeknown to Sansa, the old gods had chosen her to be the next girl to have the power to stop the Wights and the Long Night.But they shouldn’t have. Not this Stark girl at least.No, Sansa just wanted to be on the cheer squad and get into a good college that was far from the North. This hadn’t come into the equation.But neither had Robb’s best friend Jon, whose absentee father had shown up out of blue just shy of his eighteenth birthday and taken off with him. Now he was back and changed. He had come back wrong.(Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired fic.)





	1. Chapter One: Changes

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspiration fic, that I hope you enjoy as much as I have loved crossing these two worlds together.

It shouldn’t be Sansa. He had said that she was the chosen one, the man who was to be her watcher. She was the who would stand alone against the forces of darkness, to keep the long night at bay.   


Yer right. They had clearly gotten it wrong somewhere. For she was not who anybody would have picked for this. She was the pampered princess, lips glossed, short skirt smoothed down and not a single curled hair out of place.   


She certainly shouldn’t be the only one in this generation that was for sure.  Mankind was doomed. 

She was not a fighter. If it had to have been a Stark girl, then it should have been Arya. She feels guilty about how many times she had prayed before going to bed, which was somewhere around three in the morning now, for wanting it to be Arya. 

Let it be her. Not this Stark. Let her be the chosen one and not me. You have it all wrong. 

Sansa was only just seventeen, graveyard patrols, musty books on white walkers, grass stained jeans and hidden scratch marks should not be her life right now. But then again, Arya was only fourteen years old and Sansa felt the shame burn in her every time she sent a whispered prayer to the old gods in her mind. Let it be her.  


Arya was a fighter though, she told herself to provide some comfort. Just looking at her Sansa could tell she was a down in the mud, claws out, snarl on her face, fight to her last breath kind of girl.   


Not like her, whose first instinct when she was told she had the power now to kill this creature had wanted to run. She took one look at its vacant ice eyes, to its chomping teeth that kept trying to sink into the flesh of her arm, to its grasping hands that wanted to rip her skin open and had thought about throwing this watcher into its jaws so she could run.   


Even now, after doing this for four moons she had still not taken to it. She felt the power in her, but it felt disjointed, she was not connected to it. Maybe it knew she wasn’t worthy.

 

Davos Seathworth, her watcher, was a firm but gentle man. He reminded her of her father, he was a just man but he also a realist. He said he understood how she must be feeling, she'd scoff in reply, how in the seven hells could he.   


Every time he spoke of her new found powers and that she should be grateful of this gift she wanted to hit him. That would be wrong though, he was quite old, ten years younger and she might have been tempted. But she likes to picture it though, like now as he babbles on about the origins of the long night and the many mystical mumbo jumbo forces connecting the Wights together to act as one entity, she wanted to sock him in the face.   


The way she saw it, was that her being the chosen one wasn’t a gift, it was an early death. She who was so full of life before and now she was just a shadow barely keeping it together. Nearly dying on a weekly bases, flunking in school and seeing her friends was not something to celebrate and send thanks to the old gods for choosing her.

 

It was Friday, the last day of school before Christmas break and Davos was getting her prepared for a Wight hunt. For some reason once the dead were laid to rest in the dirt, they rose again to roam as mindless animals.   


It was five-thirty and she was still at school in the library, she didn’t even know this place existed until she had to report here to meet Davos. What a trainwreck her life was now.  


Sansa had already managed to cram in a school day, a quick cheer practice on the field, all before she had head to the library and start her assignments set for the holidays.   


The sun was just starting to set early now it was fall just before six, they were finishing their training session and she was about to duck out before she mentioned it.   


“I need another weapon”, she mumbled quietly hoping he wouldn’t hear, but he did. He always did. His head shot around to her from where he was packing away exercise equipment and she cursed at him in her mind, for an old guy his hearing was exceptionally good.   


And now five minutes later she was watching a currently red in the face Davos as he armed her with another dragon glass knife and kept repeating the importance of stowing away weapons safely and effectively. Its not her fault she had accidentally misplaced her previous one somewhere, she was sure she would find it again.    


“Uh-huh, thanks D. Definitely gonna take on board all those things about taking care of things. Bye.” She made a break for it as soon as the black dagger was in her palm.  


Just as the door was swinging shut she heard him mumble under his breath. “Gods, the world is in trouble.”   


Her senses had kicked into overdrive when it all happened. Her enhanced slayer hearing had helped her eavesdrop on many gossiping groups. Sometimes she wished she couldn’t hear everything. Davos could say what he liked she snivelled to herself. He wasn’t the one who risked his life.   


At the end of the night she bet he climbed into his cosy bed and slept like a baby. He was safe, all he did was tell her which cemetery had any recent burials in the city and sent her on her way. He didn’t have to try at not falling behind in school, or keeping up with studying and homework, staying committed to cheer practice and make time for friends and family. He just had to watch.

 

And then there was him. Somebody who had grown up beside her her whole life, but who she had kept at a distant. Robbs best friend. Aryas hero. Bran and Rickons idol. He never used to mean anything to her, the lack of any kind of relationship compared to her other Stark siblings had been a constant in her life, she guessed even that had changed to.  

Just like her position in the cheerleading team that Arya still scoffed at whenever she said she was going. They were going to drop her soon she was sure of it, she should have been taking over as captain in her senior year.   


I mean sure her body had gotten stronger, she could now move it in ways she couldn’t before, but she was distracted, turning up late and forgetting routines.    


But back to one of the other thorns in her side. Jon _bloody_ snow.  


All she knew was,  in the summer at the end of his senior year of high school, around about the same time this whole destiny crap had happened to her,  his absentee father had shown up out the blue.   


Jon had disappeared with him the day before his eighteenth birthday and Robb had been devastated that all their summer plans were ruined. It was as he called it there last hurrah before they went off to college. Robb was just being dramatic of course, because they were both going to Castle College together up North, that was not even a two hour drive from Winterfell.   


Jon had started the semester late and he returned back to Winterfell with Robb a few days ago ready for Christmas, and he had come back changed.   


He had gotten taller, had a dark and troubled glint in his eyes now, but the main thing that had caught her attention was the muscles that now wrapped around his body. The other night when she had seen him she had stared a little too hard at his arms and how his t-shirt stretched around them too tightly. And he was, in shock to Sansa as she didn’t think it could be possible, even more brooding.  


She often daydreamed about that physique and that penetrating stare being aimed at her in the middle of calculus class. It wasn’t like she was needed to know any of this stuff anymore anyway. Whenever he was in the house hanging around with Robb during the past couple of days, the hairs on the back of her neck would rise and she knew he had walked into the room.  


She should have know that it wasn’t because she had finally noticed he was now hot and on her radar.

 

She had arrived home just in time for tea. Which as Stark tradition demanded had to be eaten at the family dining table with no phones.   


She felt like even in her home she was trying to play catch up, listening to all her siblings stories over their starter on how their days were and trying to give noises as her reply and ask appropriate questions at the end.   


She feigned how excited she was at breaking up from school. She tried to pretend to be her old self, who had loved having lazy mornings and meeting friends for coffee and shopping as her only schedule. They would spend hours in the mall wandering aimlessly with not a care in the world.   


Now she would have to play catch up on school work she was too tired to pay attention to in class, practice her cheer routines so she wouldn’t be to far behind, train more with Davos who demanded more of her time now there was no school and still meet with friends for trips to the mall.   


The air shifted when the door opened. Robb and Jon joining them for the main course after just getting back from a movie. At least Robb had thankfully dominated all the conversation to discuss the film, college, football and girls.   


Her mind was either on her patrol tonight or how the stubble Jon had grown out suited that sharp jaw of his. She didn’t know which thought worried her more.   


They were getting to the end of their meal when she knew she had to make her excuses. “Can I go over to Beth’s tonight for a sleepover, so we can practice our new cheer routine?” She tried to make sure her voice was sugary sweet.   


Arya laughs cruelly before butting in. Doesn’t she know Sansa doesn’t care for her opinion. “Its not the routine you all need help with, its the spelling. How hard is it to shout out names?”   


_That utter horse face_ , she seethed.  


Robb and Jon both chuckle. She feels herself get embarrassed, her face heating up. She never used to be bothered with what Jon thought of her.   


Her father, ever the mediator steps in. “You’ve been spending a lot of nights studying late or having sleepovers at friends lately, is everything okay”.  


That’s funny, Sansa didn’t think he even noticed. He of course had gone to several of her cheer performances, but she knew deep down he thought it was silly.   


“I’ve always gone to sleepovers.” And it was true. She was a social butterfly like her mother, people were drawn to her and she sometimes craved a crowd of people who hung on her every word. Or at least she used to.  


“Not this many”.

How annoying, she thought. Mum and dad were doing that back up thing again were they gang up on you and work as a team.   


Great, she was probably going to have to try to quietly sneak out. It was much easier to head straight out after dinner when the sun had set. Otherwise she would have to get her pyjamas on, get under the covers and snuggled down before her mother and father popped their head round the door to say goodnight.   


She often nearly dozed off she was that comfy and tired. She often nearly started crying when she had to get out of her silk pj’s and back into clothes.  


Her mother must take pity on her desperate expression and gives a curt agreement that she can go, but she is to be back in the morning early for family breakfast at 10.   


She happily nods in reply before dashing off upstairs to fill a bag with what she calls a slayer survival kit. Extra thick jumper and socks, drinks, snacks, magazines and her dagger.  


Jon’s gaze follows her from the room and she has to try really hard to keep her head focused on getting up the stairs.   


She might have taken a little longer to climb the stairs so Jon could get a good look at her long longs, even if she was in a rush to hit two separate cemeteries tonight for the two different burial sites.

 

 

She sighs heavily for the sixth time this hour alone. She checks her phone again, 1 o'clock. 1 o'clock in the bloody morning and this stupid corpse hasn’t risen up yet. The other body at the grave site nearer the centre of town had risen at 10 sharp.   


Obviously some Wights were more concerned with time management than others.   


“Hurry up.” She says tartly down at the freshly planted grave as though she can command it to rise. Doesn’t it know she has better things to do like sleep and dream of a certain boy.  


She rises from her squatted position, shoving the magazine she had read from front to back thoroughly two times already back in her bag. She begins her warm up again, stretching her muscles repeatedly every fifteen minutes to keep herself ready, to help her remain awake and to warm her frozen limbs back up.   


Tonight sucked. She left home at seven, instead of heading out, she could have suggested a film night and slyly made sure her seat on the sofa was next to Jon’s. Well it was no use pouting over now she supposes.   


She felt a nervous thrum in her chest. That same sort of hair raising, stomach sinking feeling that was usually an alarm bell sounding from within. Danger. She reached in her bag for the dragon glass because this Wight was sure to rise now.   


The light smattering of snow on the ground made everything in here eerily silent. As if it absorbed all the noise into it. It wasn’t thick enough were it would crunch beneath her boots. Which is why she didn’t hear the impact of foot falls behind her. 

It confused her at first, why was the ground coming up to meet her face?

It clicked a second later when she felt its ice blocks for arms weighing her down. Its foul and cold breath gave a weird sensation in her ear, as though when it snarled, out poured snowflakes right into the shell of it and into her head making it heavy.   


She hit the floor hard, harder with its body on top of her and an exasperated sound falls from her lips as her weapon tumbles a few feet in front of her. Her arms were trapped. All she could do was try to buck its body off of her as it tried to attack at her neck.   


She dislodged it enough that she could use the strength in her thighs to launch it away with her feet. She threw it hard enough to hear a crack as it landed up against a tombstone.  


She turned around crawling towards her weapon, but the thing had righted itself and grabbed a hold of her ankle pulling her away. She cries out as if the world is truly against her as a hand breaks through the soil of the grave and out into the world.   


Two of them in one cemetery, she had only ever gone one on one before. She felt a slight betrayal, Davos had only said two would rise tonight but at different sites. She had already taken care of the first one across town.

The other rose in the same amount of time it took for her to nearly grab at the dagger. Sansa always thought for dead folk they were freakyishly fast.    


Kicking out her feet at the first so it couldn’t grab hold of her leg again and pinning it up against the gravestone, leaves her a small chance to deal with the second as it launches itself at her.  She quickly finds purchase gripping a hold of its neck, her muscles begin to feel as though they are on fire at holding back the sheer strength the Wights posses.   


But her other arm is now free to grab her dagger. Which might be trickier than she first thought as it was still a little out of reach and she couldn’t drag herself closer as the snow around them melts in the scuffle and makes the ground slippy.   


She feels a tingle in her gut, a tell tale sign of alert for her and see’s a shadow approaching them in her peripheral.   


Oh gods, its another one. Three of them, I’ll surely die.   


All three would surround and pin her down, taking turns to bite chunks of her flesh. Would she turn into one of these things after. Would her family have to go to the morgue to see her mangled, chewed up body. Gods, her family. Her mum, her dad.   


Her heart pounded quickly but this thing approached slowly, crouching down just in front of her.

 _What the hell._  


Her heart is in her throat as she peels her eyes away from the monsters to stare into blue eyes. Wait- not blue.

They were not the ice blue of Wights she had been expecting, but a deep and molten chocolate brown. Jon _bloody_ Snows brown eyes, as they smirk down at her.   


“Do you need some help sweet girl?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, was this a trick. Was Jon a bad guy all this time and she didn’t know it. Her mind flashed to all the times he had come into a room and she had that feeling in her gut. She was sure it was a nervous flutter because of her huge crush.  


She was so stupid. Her senses had been warning her this whole time and she was too distracted by him to realise. It was surprising how good he obviously was at hiding this dark part of himself, he was someone who Sansa thought could be read like a book.   


But he made no move to kill her though. And she really didn’t know how long she could keep these two at bay. Was he really waiting for her to give an answer.  


“Erm. Yes… please?”.   


He smiled down at her, she was courteous even as she was trying to keep deaths jaws pried open to stop it from swallowing her.   


He rises up, finally stepping out of the shadows and into the light of moon. He looked less scary bathed in the moons glow. Maybe he just happened to be in the neighbourhood? #

Even though he was sleeping at her house and it was 1 o'clock in the morning.   


She tried to read his face but it remained blank, she truly didn’t know what he was going to do. She had spent years around this man and in this moment she felt like she didn’t know him.  


He used his foot to nudge the dagger closer to her free arm, she sent a quick prayer to the gods.   


Before she could even look to grab it, Wight number two had slipped from her grasp. She grabs the weapon and tackles it to the floor, as she goes to slam the dagger in its chest a body flies through the air beside her.   


The Wight she has a hold of shrieks as it breaks down, as if it was entirely made of ice, she then turns to face the one beside her.  


The one that’s probably killed Jon. It was all her fault, she was sure if Arya was the slayer she could take on five whole Wights at once. She wanted to lay down at cry. He was dead.  


Only, it was brown eyes again not blue eyes she looks upon beside her.  


“Oh- you’re not dead”. Well done Sansa, great deduction there. He probably already thinks you’re some dumb cheerleader.  


His lips quip up in a half smile, but before she can say anything to him again they both turn to the Wight that’s screeching a few graves away. It almost sounded as if it was in pain, and she reprimands herself for being sloppy in forgetting about the thing for even a second.  


How did it even get a few gravestones over? She recalls it, a body being flung in the air. She thought it was Jon’s though, what with the Wights inhuman strength.  


“How did you throw it off that far?” She’s swallows nervously, back to being worried about him.  


He merely shrugs. She was sure he used to talk more than this, even if it was rarely to her.  


She cautiously approaches the Wight, looking as though it was writhing on the ground. She brings her dagger up ready to embed it in its chest, it was grasping at a bite mark on its own neck, screeching out before it turned to ice flakes blowing in the wind.  


_Why did it have a bite mark on its neck? How did it die without being killed by dragonglass? What was Jon doing here?_  


She held the pointy end of the dagger towards him. He knew something. Nobody who had just witnessed all this would be okay right now. He clearly knew Wights existed. He wasn’t afraid. Sansa even thinks he just killed that one somehow.  


She knew that there were other bad things in the world. Other monsters. And maybe he was one. How else could he have thrown that Wight so far.   


Was she going to have to kill Robbs best friend?  


“What. Are. You”. There was no time for niceties, she had too many questions swirling around in her mind.  


“I could ask you the same thing. What’s Robbs little sister doing in a cemetery fighting monsters in the middle of the night”. He takes a step closer to her then, she feels the heat coming off him in waves. Did he always run this hot? Was he sick?  


He takes another step towards her, approaching her as though she were a skittish doe. She wants to take one back because they’re nearly touching, she feels the ghost of his touch brush her arms.   


He’s too close, he’ll muddle her head up because all she now see’s is him, all she hears is his heart beating fast, too fast. His scent floods all around her and she can only focus on him.  


He puts a finger to her chin and tilts her head up not to him but up at the sky. He leans down and whispers in her ear, “Its almost a full moon”.  


Was that a fact or a warning. She didn’t know, he was hard to understand. Boys were hard to understand at the best of times.  


She stares at the moon, she never notices its phases, why would she ever need to bother. Looking at it now she could see it was almost there. On the cusp of being round and full.  


She looks to him as he takes a step back, his pupils are blown wide as they gaze up at the sky.  


He cuts down to her quick and sharp. Then he grins. A wide one showing off pointed teeth that gleam in the reflection of the light.  


And she just knows again, that her whole world has shifted for a second time in her life, everything she knew would change once more.

 

 

_A/N- I already posted this to my tumblr a few days ago until I got an account. Hoping to have the next chapter up by next week, fingers crossed. After the season finale I was in a weird mood and haven't been writing anything new, going to get back to it maybe tomorrow._

 


	2. Lie To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tells a few white lies, but she's just trying to do her best okay.
> 
> Jon makes her life harder whether he meant to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update, I've been swamped with college coursework, but I hope you enjoy!

 

Previously:  _He puts a finger to her chin and tilts her head up not to him but up at the sky. He leans down and whispers in her ear, “Its almost a full moon”._

_Was that a fact or a warning. She didn’t know, he was hard to understand. Boys were hard to understand at the best of times.She stares at the moon, she never notices its phases, why would she ever need to bother. Looking at it now she could see it was almost there. On the cusp of being round and full._

_She looks to him as he takes a step back, his pupils are blown wide as they gaze up at the sky. He cuts down to her quick and sharp. Then he grins. A wide one showing off pointed teeth that gleam in the reflection of the light._

_And she just knows again, that her whole world has shifted for a second time in her life, everything she knew would change once more._

 

**Now**

“So, what is Robbs little sister doing out in the middle of the night when she’s supposed to be at a sleepover?” Jon drawls out as he plays with the tip of her dagger.

“I was… er… you see I- I sleep walk.  Yep, it’s really bad. I can end up anywhere in the morning. Just like with here and now, its a condition you know.” 

One eyebrow rises up at her answer. “Right,” he says incredulously at her, like he doesn’t believe her, which yer, that’s not hard to do with that lame and stumbled out excuse.

“Yes it is right, what about you then?” she huffs as she yanks the dagger and herself back. Better to keep a safe distance she thinks, especially when he’s looking like a predator with those sharp and gleaming teeth.

“Oh I’ve been following you most of the night.” His eyes tighten at her as he searches her face for a reaction. 

 

But it’s blank in utter shock at his admission, so he continues on. “I was already in the woods when I saw you leave that coffee place at nine. Then I went to go after you, perhaps tease you for pulling one over on your parents about your little sleepover, but then I saw you leap right over the cemetery gates across town. No one could jump a gate that high, at least no one human.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. He knew. Maybe not everything, but he knew something wasn’t quite right. All because she was being careless, she was too busy sipping on her caramel mocha to notice her surroundings.

And now he was looking at her all smug at his outright honesty. He’s caught her out there. But fine, if he liked being so truthful two could play at that game, she also knew something wasn’t quite right with him.

“I was out hunting Wights. Its been like, my job, for a few months now." 

She can see from the smirk he’s in a teasing mood, "Still in the training period then from what I’ve seen.”   


_Ugh_ \- when did he get so playful.   


She knows it was in a jest but the comment stung all the same. Especially after Davos’ comment earlier about the world being doomed with her as its protector.

“Wait a minute. Oh I see it now. You’re her. The slayer. Well I never would have pictured her being you,” he says quite matter of factly. Well he’s all about dropping the truth bombs tonight. 

She preferred it when they didn’t talk.  
“Yer, well that makes two of us,” she knows her eyes are big and sad she doesn’t want him to see her like that, like his words effect her but she can’t help it.

He starts rubbing at his neck nervously, “I’m just joking with you Sansa. You did great out there, a bit more practice and if you just let go you’d be unstoppable.”  
He’s trying to be nice she guesses, but now she’s not in the mood.

“Thanks but I already have somebody on my back who tries to give me helpful pointers I don’t need two. And anyway back to you stalker boy. Question one, how did you throw that Wight that far and question two, how did it just die without being stabbed by dragon glass?” 

Because if other people can kill these things then Sansa’s going on a little vacay for some me time.

“You remember I used to be on the high school football team right and I’m one of the star quarter backs at Castle College. I used one of the block and shove techniques, I’ve pushed off guys bigger than that.”

Yep she did remember, his butt always had looked good in those tight pants.

He and Robb were naturals when it came to athleticism and had both gotten football scholarships for it. Cheering her brother on with the rest of her family on big game nights had actually made her try out for the schools cheerleading squad in softmore year. She was one of the youngest to ever get on the squad with it only being filled with seniors and juniors. She used to have so much potential. 

But she’s never been an idiot, Robb wouldn’t have been able to launch it a few feet away. Sansa could have, but that was only because of the abilities she now possessed. 

“You don’t seem shocked by what’s just happened. Something like that’s not normal, how are you not freaking out?” She was being a little intense with her questioning she knew, but Jon was different now as well and she wanted to know why.

He shrugs, “You’d be surprised at the things I’ve seen.”

Did he always have to be so ominous and talk in tongues. Now they’re back to silence and side eyeing each other again.

After a moment she yawns quite loudly, the adrenaline leaving her body to be replaced with a tiredness she feels in her bones. 

He takes some pity on her, holding his hands up as he suggests they head back.

She shouldn’t let him go back to her home, where her little brothers and sister are. She feels pulled in two, she doesn’t think he can be trusted but then he had been around her family since he changed and hadn’t done anything untoward. 

So she simply nods and gestures for him to lead on first as she grabs her bag.

 

On the walk home together they ensure a slight distance is kept, as they both seem to be on alert around one another.  

As they head back they begin to talk. Which isn’t a strange thing to do, but it is for them. Jon and Sansa don’t really talk past pleasantries.

Maybe there’s something about the night, about being shrouded in darkness with only the moon watching, that she feels more open. Or maybe she just craves to talk to somebody about this stuff with, other than a stuffy sixty year old librarian.

So she tells him about what happened when Davos came along and plucked her out her perfect bubble that was her life and dragged her into this. That she wasn’t normal anymore and now even something as simple as school was becoming harder. 

Because the flashes of her parents disappointed eyes enter her mind, over her slipping grades and her teachers comments that were no longer filled with praise and how she excelled but that she was only maintaining an average grade and her homework was rushed. 

She tried to cover up the quivering in her voice at the end by masking it with another yawn but she failed miserably.

Jon tells her about the first time he saw a Wight when it ripped apart his mother when he was thirteen. She remembers that time he had to go live with Mr Aemon after it happened. The whole family had been in morning during that period. 

She remembers how at school everybody had treated Jon differently, and how he hated it. The adults talked to him softly, afraid he’d burst into tears at any moment and handled him with kid gloves.

His jaw used to be permanently clenched and his hands always curled into fists like he was ready to pounce. 

Instead when Ramsay Bolton had made a horrible comment about his dead mother he had just punched a wall and Robb had pulled him outside.

She’s silent for a long time, what do you say to someone after that?

“I- I’m sorry,” she murmurs, knowing it was a stupid thing to say, but that it was true nonetheless.

“Yer, everyone’s sorry,” he huffs out.

She grabs at his elbow to stop them, “I am Jon. So sorry. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what losing my mother would do to me, and seeing it as well. I’m eighteen and can barely handle this situation I’m in and you were thirteen. So yes, I am sorry for you Jon and I wished it had never happened to you. Your mother was brave and beautiful and she should still be here, its not fair.”

She cups his face, her thumb swiping at the tears that fall from the corner of his eye. All she sees is that sad little thirteen year old boy sat at their house on the front steps during his mothers wake. She had used her cardigan sleeve to wipe at his tears back then. He had been so mad, mad at the world, mad at himself for crying and mad at her for seeing him cry. 

She had given him her sunglasses to hide his red rimmed eyes when they joined the others in the back garden.  

She guides her hand from his cheek down his arm and hovers her open hand over his in an invitation. He grasps it up, interlocking their fingers as they moved forwards.

For a few moments they can pretend to just be Jon Snow and Sansa Stark. Normal teenagers sneaking around in the dead of night. And not deadly people with inhuman strength and secrets.

 

When they reach the back garden they stand before the big willow tree outside her bedroom, the one that she uses to help her get back inside.

She pauses turning to him, “You know you still didn’t really explain how you threw it that far, or how it died?”

“I didn’t did I.” He ignores her questioning again, she thinks he likes annoying her.

He distracts her by asking how she’s gonna explain being back when she’s supposed to be at a sleepover.

“Oh I’ll just put my alarm on vibrate to go off at half eight and come right through the front door like I usually have to,” this is her new normal now. 

“Hey you don’t mind me using your window to sneak back in do you, it seems easier than scaling the drain pipe to get back into Robbs?”  

She shakes her head and watches in stunned silence as he leaps up higher than a normal person should, onto one of the branches and flips his body onto her window ledge and steps into her room.

She should be concerned about that, but she’s more worried about the fact a boy is in her bedroom. What if she’s left some underwear out?

Oh god, she’d hardly been wearing black lace at the minute, they were all grey cotton and sports bras. That quickly spurs her into action and she follows him in.

She sighs in relief. He’s not snooping, of course he’s not, Jon wouldn’t do something like that. He was just smiling at the photos on her wall. 

Specifically, the one of all of them from the lake house two summers ago. They had been in the water, Sansa had given up trying to not get her hair wet after Arya and Robb made it their mission to nearly drown her after she moaned about it. When they had all gotten out, with wrinkled fingers, her mother had taken a photo. 

She looks to the photo as well, seeing Jon’s arm wrapped around her waist as they stand on the jetty smiling at her mother. 

Jon comes right up to her and she freezes wondering what he wants to do so close to her. He still set her belly full of nerves and she still didn’t know if it was a slayer thing or just a girl/boy thing.

But he just puts a simple kiss on her forehead and she’s left in a daze at his rich and heady masculine scent that invades her senses.

He moves his lips down to her ear and whispers good night. Maybe he does it so he’s quiet and he doesn’t wake anyone up in the house, but she likes to think its so he can keep close to her.

His face stays at the side of her face, his hands hovering near his hips. She knows this is dangerous as she feels a heat rise within her. She should stop it, this was Jon, not only her brothers best friend but also something not entirely human.

She grabs a fistful of his shirt pushing him backwards as she stays close to him, nearly right up against his body. They only stop when she’s backed him into the wall by her door, she leans back, her eyes darting to his mouth. She sees him lick his lips in anticipation, she leans in close and whispers goodnight as she opens her bedroom door with a click.

He huffs out a small chuckle at her.

She’s going to reply until she sees movement on the landing. They really should have made sure everyone was in bed. 

They both freeze at the person on the top of the stairs holding a glass of water.  
They all seem stiff and wide eyed at the situation. No one dares to move because then it all becomes real. She knows how this looks.

Coughing from her parents room seems to get them all off of pause as they spring quietly into action.

Bran thankfully goes silently to his room and Jon goes to Robbs, giving her a wink as he shuts the door behind him. 

When she closes her bedroom door, she has to lean against it for a few moments to catch her breath.

 

Her alarm softly wakes her at half eight and she feels well rested, almost as if she had no dreams at all last night keeping her mind busy. She knows she did, but the memory of them had already been chased away at her waking.

She dresses slowly, putting on her coat and grabbing her bag before she sneaks back through her window and around the house to the front door. 

She goes straight to the kitchen and adjoining dining room which was the heart of their house. 

She enters to her parents hushed voices which she ignores as she greets them, plonking her bag on the counter top.

Her mother kisses her head good morning and Sansa pulls away sharply, looking at her mother weirdly, when she heard her take a small sniff of her hair.

Her mother just smiles, a rather large one that stretched right across her cheeks before she tells her to go put her things away. She needed to get cleaned up so she could set the table for breakfast. 

There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach that makes her go up the stairs slowly as they begin whispering again. 

Her parents probably think she won’t be able to hear them this far away, but she can now.

“And?” her father asks.

“I’m not sure, it was to faint to tell really,” her mother replies as she begins getting pans out of the cupboard for breakfast.

“There we go then, you’re getting yourself worked up over nothing.”

“A mother knows Ned, you just don’t want to think it because she’s your little girl,” her mother tells him finally.

That sinking feeling in her stomach does a one-eighty as it rises to her throat, so she shoots up the stairs not wanting to hear anymore. 

_Did they know too?_

She supposes they had been picking up on her changes lately.

Gods, she was rubbish at this. Davos had warned her of how dangerous it would be if people found out.

Sansa fiddled with the strings on her sweat pants- she would never have been caught dead in these things before- and decided she would not tell her watcher. 

It’s not like she had gone and blurted her secret out to them all, they had either followed her and found out or just seemed to know.

_A mother just knows Ned._

She doesn’t know how she would, but mothers often did seem to know things. Especially her meddling one.

She flees past Robbs room as she hears deep and grumbling morning voices through the door and goes straight to Brans. 

Poking her head round she waits until he looks up from his computer before she speaks, “You better keep your mouth shut.”

Bran doesn’t say a word, instead he pretends to zip his mouth and throw away an invisible key. At least that was sorted out easily enough.

 

Things go down hill once she’s in the shower. Her hair is washed and now she’s mindlessly scrubbing down her body when her thoughts keep going to a certain someone with dark eyes and darker curls. 

Her hands just start to run away with her, but she can’t help it when she’s all slippery from her soap and starts to slowly caress over her breasts. Her hands drift lower, to where she’s smooth and freshly shaven. 

Its not her hand she’s imagining is rubbing her in small circles, but Jon’s. In her mind he’s just finished kissing her neck before bending down right in front of her, pulling one of her legs over his strong shoulder as his mouth joins his fingers.

Just as her head falls back she has to yank her hand away as if its been scolded, as she had nearly cried out his name. 

What was she doing, anyone could hear her. 

She finishes washing off the foam from her soap and flees into her bedroom.

She’s only half dressed when she gets side tracked and she stands in her room to replay last nights events with Jon. Where he had kissed her forehead and been so close to her lips. To where she backed him up against the wall and felt his hot breath on her. She saw the look in his eyes, he had wanted her to kiss him.

She bites her lip and looks down at her body, she’s still flushed and now her chest is heaving. 

Her mind wasn’t on anything but on the throb between her legs which had only grown more demanding in her attention. 

It held so much power over her that she hadn’t even really thought about it before she had dived under her covers, not even fully dried. 

Her hands trace over the same path again as what she did in the shower, her fingers gliding through her wetness. She can feel the difference of the water from the shower to her own slightly thicker wetness that makes her smooth through her folds with ease.

She closes her eyes and the Jon in her mind is now under the covers and has gone straight to eating her pussy. The Jon in her head calls it that, he’s filthy and she loves it. 

It doesn’t take long for her to start keening softly, burying her face and biting at her pillow to quieten the moans that leave her lips. 

She sings a song so sweet for him.

Imaging that it was Jon who wasn’t being gentle and was shoving his fingers inside of her was bringing her quicker to the edge than ever before. He was currently whispering filthy things about what he wanted to do to her, about her whole family being just outside her door and anyone of them could hear her. 

Her hips were now reaching for her fingers when she peaked, to keep riding  out the blissful high it brings for as long as she could.

Once the waves have past, that feeling creeps up on her. Its not quite guilt, more a slight burning of shame and she quickly dresses, as if her mother and father are going to barge into her room shouting ‘shame’ at her.

She curses the gods, for who does she see as she’s about to make her way downstairs but him.

Jon steps from Robb’s room as he’s pulls a grey hoodie down over himself, he pauses just out of the doorway and sniffs the air.  


He zones in on her with blown pupils. There’s a hungry look that has taken over his whole face and Sansa wants to whimper when the heat pools in her belly again. Again, she just had bleeding sated it. 

He can’t be looking at her like that because of what she’d just done could he?

He can’t smell it on her, it wasn’t possible. She still smelt the slight lingering sweetness of it but only because of her heightened senses.

But then Jon seemed capable of impossible things lately. 

She knows her breathing had still not slowed down normally yet and her cheeks must be flushed.

His eyes drop to the hand at her side, the one that had a sheen of wetness on it moments ago before she wiped it on her bed covers as she fled the scene.

She fists her hand and hides it behind her back as if that would solve the problem, out of sight, out of mind.

It doesn’t, he seems under no control as he stalks towards her.

His eyes are darker than she’d ever seen as he reaches her. Before he can say a word her eyes flicker to Robbs bedroom where her brother is coming out. 

Jon doesn’t seem too concerned at what this might look like. But she does.

“I have to set the table”, she blurts out as she bolts down the steps, making it her first priority to scrub her hands raw before setting the table.

 

Jon makes sure he subtly brushes past her siblings so he can claim the chair next to hers and it makes her stomach flutter. 

He wants to sit next to her, he wanted to kiss her. He wants her and  she feels something strange, something like giddiness at the thought of it. 

She wonders what would happen if she just stopped fighting things so much, so she gives him a secret smile hidden from the others through the curtain of her hair. 

One of his hands grasps at her thigh under the table. It was strange how they had gone to this. From not really having a relationship to shared secrets, hand holding in the moonlight and grasped thighs. All in just one night. 

She should be scared at how quickly things had changed between them, but she’s not. All she feels is a weight lifted off of her shoulder that she thinks she can now talk to Jon about all of this. 

She wants to tell him lots of things, she wants to be close to someone again.

As soon as her mother has put the last of the plates in the middle of the table it begins.

They’re like a pack of wolves as they wrestle for spoons and forks to pile sausages and scrambled eggs onto their plates.

Sansa would have once had a little scoop of a few things, now her appetite is as large as Robb’s and Jon’s. 

Her mother had loved when she started to laden more bacon slices and toast on her plate, because she thinks its to do with Sansa no longer caring much about her appearance and enjoying her mothers cooking more again. When in reality it was just that she needed more energy so had to consume a lot more now with how much she was burning off. 

Her mothers not smiling though, as she picks up her tea cup and sips it slowly staring at Sansa until she finally relents and looks upon her mother.  
She has haughty look on her face and Sansa shrinks back, what had she done now. 

“I rang Beth’s mother last night just to make sure you got there alright,” her mothers lips are pursed and she knows that means trouble.

 _Oh shit_ , she gulps.

“Why did you do that, I texted to say I did,” that's right Sansa make this worse by getting defensive. 

Her mothers eyes narrow at her responce, “Well isn’t that strange, because she said you weren’t there and couldn’t remember the last time you had slept? So then I rang Jeyne’s mother as well. Can you guess what she told me?” 

She knows her mothers being rhetorical but she can’t help try to scramble a response, “Er-

Her mother beats her to it, obviously not in the mood for some half assed excuse by asking yet another question, "Is it some boy?”

Everyone whips there heads to look at Sansa now, she see’s Arya smirk at the shit show unfolding right in front of her, thoroughly enjoying watching Sansa squirm.

Her father has the decency to roll his eyes at his wife’s tactlessness and she had to agree, like really, right at the breakfast table mum.

Robb looks like he’s going into big brother mode with a frown and accusing eyes like how dare she at seventeen even think about sneaking out to see a boy. 

Which she didn’t, which makes this all the more annoying.

At least Jon’s keeping his big trap shut as chugs his whole glass of fresh orange.

She didn’t have long to think of anything with them all waiting on her and what lie would actually sound believable in this situation that wouldn’t get her grounded.

How was she going to explain the fact she that she left with her stuff to sleep out at her friends since her mother had proof.

Gods, was it getting hot in here.

No, she was just panicking and everyone was still looking at her and even Jon had turned his smarmy looking face to her as if he couldn’t wait to see her try and get out of this.

“I wasn’t feeling well just before I got to Beth’s so I came home and quietly went upstairs because I didn’t want to disturb anyone?” Well done Sansa, she cursed, say it like a question.

“That’s what you’re going with,” Arya snorts.

“That’s funny considering you texted saying you were there safe. And if you left at sevenish and came back from walking to Beth’s you would have been home when I saw your room empty at around ten when I went to sort Rickon out after his bad dream.”

Well she had her there. And Sansa did not work well under pressure.

“Maybe, I was sleep walking then?”

Jon snorts beside her.

 

 _A mother knows Ned_ , it means something different now. 

Of course it wasn’t about her mother suspecting she was a slayer, but about her mother suspecting she was having sex with boy.

How could she not have guessed that was what they were whispering about.

Her mother didn’t believe her anyway. Which is why they were now sat in their family’s doctors office waiting for the birth control prescription that Sansa now had to take.

She thinks both herself and Doctor Luwin, who has seen her grow from being a baby, will not look each other in the eyes for a long time.

It wouldn’t have been so bad, most girls her age went on it, but her mother had to scandalise it with retelling her now being moody and secretive and all about her late nights of sneaking in and out of the house at all hours and lying about it. 

Probably for the best, rather she believe she was sneaking out with boys than what she was really up to.

All the way to the car Sansa had to listen to her mothers constant barrage of questioning.

“Who’s this boy then, the one that's got you sneaking about? Is it just the one?”

“There’s no boy and of course it would be one mother, gods.”  

“Do I know them or any of their family?” The questions seem to continue even as they've pulled out onto the main road.

“There’s no boy.”

“Do they go to your school? They better be school age, how old is he?”

Her mother cuts her off again before she can repeat that there is no boy.  
“Oh, or how old is she… that kind of thing is something to be proud of, you don’t need to be worried about telling us if that’s why you haven’t mentioned it.”

“Mom you can actually say the words 'are you gay Sansa?’, and no I’m not. Also boys my age are stupid, but yet again I say there is no boy.”

“Maybe you could bring them for tea to meet me and your father.”

Oh somebody save me please.

Her phone vibrates between them as the message pops up, her prayers are answered. 

Only the message is there to be read as clear as day as it sits in between them both. Shit.

 

 **Jon** :  _Last night was interesting. Perhaps we should sneak out again together…_

 

Well that clearly made it look as if Sansa had been straight up repeatedly lying to her mother when a text like that comes through. Why couldn’t one thing just go right. 

She knows her mothers seen it. A gasp falls from her lips and her mother has to quickly right the car when they nearly swerve into a tree, because her eyes were to busy re-reading the message before Sansa could make a grab for it. 

She slips it into her purse with flaming cheeks. She opens and closes her mouth several times before finally giving up on trying to recover the situation and stares out of the window.

Her mother waits until they’ve got home and are parked up on the drive before she speaks.

She unclips her belt and turns her whole body to face her.

Great, I’m so in for it now. Stupid Jon, sending that stupid text. Wait until I see him.

“Really Sansa, your brothers best friend. This could be messy you know, although a part of me is glad it’s Jon. As a mother no one will be good enough for you but he comes pretty close. Of course he’s a sweet boy and so handsome, a little troubled lately though. Oh this is strange, I’ll see what your father says about it.”

Why does she need to tell father.

She doesn’t even try to explain, what was the point.

_Wights kill me now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Jon's bond begins, a little bit of plot next chapter.


End file.
